


Remnant

by AmyNChan



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, For giggles, posting now, wrote this a while ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 18:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12823140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyNChan/pseuds/AmyNChan
Summary: The room seemed so still as opposed to mere hours ago.





	Remnant

The boxes piled high on one another, each having their specific place among the wreckage that had once been their room.  Order sat calmly in one corner while chaos spilled across the floor.  Black capes and white uniforms were separated and packed away, photographs long since taken down and out of sight.

Tired hands lifted another box and stacked it against the wall.  Tired legs walked the sullen figure from object to object, taking each piece and removing it from sight.

The room seemed so still as opposed to mere hours ago.  He had awoken first.  She had awoken to his fingers dancing across her collarbone.  Laughter.  Happiness. Excitement.  Joy.  Love. And perhaps more than a smidge of annoyance.  Fond bickering and goodbyes exchanged by way of kissing lips.  Life and chaos and order all in one room.

A lot can change in a matter of hours.

The joy in the room had abandoned the figure, leaving nothing but bitter cold behind.  The laughter had died out, allowing stilted silence to seep into the area.  Fond bickering had been effectively silenced and lips forever closed, never to allow warmth past them again.

_Crash!_

The figure turned around, yet not quickly enough.  There, lying on the ground in pieces, was the glass frame one of her favorite pictures. She had stolen his flask away in a rare show of petty playfulness or the slightly less rare commanding aura to please not drink when on a job.  The distinction didn’t matter to him, he only reached around her for his flask, whining when she deflected the first three attempts to retrieve it.  The picture had been snapped on his fourth plan to take the drink back, which involved some method of tickling.

But on paper, their smiles seemed to lose the warmth of that moment.  A measley photograph could never really measure up.  And, after something as awful as what happened today, after everything, he supposed it was all he would ever have of her.

He placed the picture in his pocket before cleaning up the shattered glass.  However measly the picture was, it was all he had now.

There was no way he’d let his bad luck take that, too.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd posted this on tumblr along with my reasoning for even writing this, but now I've posted it here for easier access. *^_^* Hope y'all enjoy.


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